The Child who Lived
by fernandfeather
Summary: The Dursleys said he was a freak. They called him boy. Harry knew he looked different from them. He wasn't like Dudley. He wasn't like Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon. So what was he really? (Agender Harry). ABANDONED
1. Harry

**Harry**

They always called him a boy. It always felt wrong. Not that there was anything wrong with being a boy, but Harry never felt like he truly fit in. "Boy" was just another abstract concept like "freak". Harry often wondered what it meant for him to a boy and a freak. _What was freak? What was boy? Was Harry really freak? Was Harry really boy? Did it even matter? Was he a freakish boy or a boyish freak? What made him a boy? What made him a freak? Was it because his parents were gone?_

Underneath the stairs in the darkness of the cupboard, Harry had lots of time to think. He imagined what it would be like to have a family that loved him. He thought about the smiling person in his dreams with beautiful hair. He hoped that one day the person with hair like fire would save him from the Dursleys.

In his dreams Harry could be free.


	2. Red

Harry's favorite color was red. There was just something about the color that felt good. It was both powerful and protective. The person in his dreams had fire hair. Harry wished he could have fire hair. Maybe if he was beautiful the Dursleys would like him. Harry knew he scared the neighbors. He was a problem child. There was something off about him. Harry wished he knew what was wrong with him.

If he knew what was wrong maybe he could fix it. Or at least he could try to. Harry always felt a little wrong. There was something that was just not quite the same as everyone else. He knew better than to just compare himself to Dudley. Dudley wasn't quite like the rest of the neighborhood too. But Harry was super different. _Maybe it was his eyes? Or his scar?_ Harry remembered he had once heard Aunt Petunia whisper to herself "he has Lily's eyes." When Harry asked Aunt Petunia who Lily was he was sent to the cupboard. He never asked Aunt Petunia about that Lily person again.

He hoped Lily was the fire person from his dreams. If he could be like his dreams then everything would be okay.


	3. Cupboard

Harry liked small spaces. In small spaces he could be safe. In the cupboard under the stairs Harry could be protected. The spiders that ran by were a bit scary. But the darkness and the peace was nice. When he was in the cupboard Harry didn't have to do chores. In the cupboard, Harry could think. It's not that he minded the chores so much. Cooking could be fun. It was nice to make things. It was just that waking up early and being dragged around wasn't fun at all.

Often Harry wondered what it would be like to live somewhere besides the Dursleys. Harry hoped that one day he could wake up and Privet Drive would be gone forever. He would awake from this bad dream and go live with people who made him happy. Harry would still do chores like gardening. But he'd do more fun things too. Maybe he'd even get to watch the telly! Or someone else could make food for once. Maybe the red haired person would make him chocolate chip biscuits and he'd get to watch a show while eating!

Harry had a little trouble hiding his day dreams. Sometimes he'd wander too far in his imagination and Aunt Petunia would screech at him to "do his job" or Uncle Vernon would smack him with the newspaper to "do your work boy!". Harry didn't really like being called _boy_. The way Uncle Vernon said "boy" made the word feel dirty and wrong.

Harry thought he had to get better about hiding his dreams. In the cupboard he didn't have to hide them. Since Harry was hidden away, his dreams could be hidden away too. But, out in the big world, without little spaces to hide, he had to learn how to protect the thoughts. Maybe he'd work on only thinking things in the cupboard. That seemed smart.


	4. Birthday

Harry didn't know his birthday. He knew Dudley's birthday though. It was the twenty-third of June. Aunt Petunia made it a very important day. Harry had to wake up extra early on Dudley's birthday to make a cake and to clean.

There was so much to clean. First the kitchen after making a mess while baking Dudley's favorite cake (double chocolate with buttercream frosting). Next the dining room so all of Dudley's friends and family could eat like royalty. Then the parlor so company could be brought in properly. After, the bathrooms were made spotless. Finally, Harry swept the stairs out front so Number 4 Privet Drive would be pristine to the outside world.

After that whole ordeal, Harry was sent to the cupboard with a sliver of cheese rind and a bit of bread. Harry was thankful to be left alone. Harry hoped he'd get the chance to try some of the cake. He'd done his very best work so far.

Harry wondered when he'd have a birthday. He hoped he'd get a hug. Those seemed nice when Dudley got them from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. A cake would be nice too. Maybe something sweet with caramel? If it was Harry's birthday he wouldn't make people clean. He'd just want people to be happy. And no one would yell or shout and he wouldn't be called boy. That would be a nice day.

Unfortunately, Harry's dreams about his own ideal birthday were smashed when he was called out of the cupboard to play Musical Statues with the rest of Dudley's party members. Harry liked musical statues. It was nice to dance around to music and he was pretty good at freezing. All the other children kept falling over though, leaving Dudley and Harry as the last two playing the game. In the fun, Harry had forgotten the rules involving Dudley. Dudley was the precious one, he had to win. Aunt Marge whacked his shins with her walking stick until he fell over.

Harry was sent back to the cupboard for almost out-showing Dudley. He didn't get cake.


	5. Cats

Harry wasn't so sure about staying with Mrs. Figg. She smelled like cats. Her home smelled like cats. The cats themselves were huge fluffy beasts. Some of the cats seemed even bigger than Harry!

Harry knew he wasn't a very large child. He was quite small, a freakish little shrimp. While useful in hiding, being small had many disadvantages. When cooking, he needed several stools to see the stove or to access the sink or to use the fridge or the oven. Gardening with huge adult size tools was also challenging. For Harry's little arms, the rake and shovels and various clippers were quite the struggle. Being small also meant Dudley and Uncle Vernon felt too large. They took up so much space and it made Harry nervous. Harry worried that one day there would no longer be space for anyone in the house besides Dudders and Vernon and Petunia.

It wasn't that Harry would mind taking a break from the Dursleys, it's just that whenever they left, Harry got stuck with Mrs. Figg. She wasn't very fun and seemed more strict than Petunia. If Harry ever had to babysit he'd do a better job. He'd make nice treats for the kids like jaffa cakes or even treacle tart! There would be happy colors around the house and lots of outside space to play and lots of books and games. Mrs. Figg had water and faded grey blue rooms and cats everywhere. A cat by itself was fine, but all together they were way too much.

Harry would prefer just being alone. He could take care of himself just fine thank you very much.


	6. Apparition

School was both bad and good for Harry. The other kids didn't like him because Dudley beat up anyone who came near him. The teacher didn't seem to like him either. Maybe Aunt Petunia told her that he was a bad _boy_. That's what she had told all the neighbors at least. The neighbors didn't like Harry. They would sneer at him and talk around him as if he wasn't there. It wasn't polite at all. Harry hadn't done anything wrong. _Maybe it was the clothes he wore that made everyone be mean to him? It wasn't his fault. Dudley was so much bigger than him and Aunt Petunia never bought him anything new. His hair was always a mess too. Aunt Petunia had tried to take it before but she just made it worse. Why were people so quick to judge him based on his appearance? It wasn't very nice._ Harry decided he would try and be nice to anyone he ever met who was also nice to him. Maybe if he was nice to everyone he could make someone happy and maybe make a friend.

Reading was the best part about school. The teacher would read to them and they would sit and listen. No one else would talk. Dudley wouldn't bother him. He could just listen and imagine. Harry hoped he could read big kid books on his own soon. He knew how to read picture books and recipes thanks to having to cook all the time. But words used in recipes weren't like the fantastical words in stories.

Harry would try and hide in the library during lunch because Dudley would hunt him down. If he crouched down behind bookshelves sometimes Dudley couldn't find him. It seemed as if the wonderful books scared Dudley away. Sometimes the librarian kicked him out though. Harry looked a bit scruffy so she found him suspicious if he visited the library too often. It wasn't like he was going to steal the books! Harry tried to be good. He really did. Trouble just seemed to follow him.

Today was a bad day. Dudley and Piers caught him just after he had finished eating his lunch (a slice of bread and a slice of cheese). With no chance of running through the halls to the library, Harry was stuck. He desperately wished he could be anywhere else. Somewhere safe. Somewhere away from Dudley and his nastiness. Someplace where dudley and his gang couldn't reach him. He wished he had the ability to escape.

 _Crack!_

Harry found himself on the roof.


	7. Teacher

It wasn't his fault. The teacher said he cheated. No he hadn't! He wasn't stupid, no matter what Uncle Vernon shouted or what Aunt Petunia gossiped. Harry was smart. He read a lot. He did his homework twice. Once properly in the library, and then scribbled in the cupboard at home. The first time he tried to turn in a proper assignment, the teacher mentioned it to Aunt Petunia and he was punished to the cupboard without dinner. So, he learned to hide his intelligence, not just his dreams. That didn't mean he cheated on the test though! He was just doing his best. Did he have to hide that now too?

Harry was fuming in the little chair in front of the principal's desk. He was anxiously waiting for Aunt Petunia. He was so in trouble for this. What would she take away from him this time? Two years ago when he found himself on the roof of the school he was suspended for a week for endangering himself and his peers. Aunt Petunia made him work outside and only fed him scraps. It was cold outside and she made him garden! There wasn't anything to even grow! He barely got any food. No wonder he was so tiny.

Aunt Petunia took him home for the day. Harry was sent outside to make everything more presentable. "No dinner tonight you freak!" crowed Dudley when he returned from school. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid to trust the teacher's words. Stupid to think that school was actually meant to make you better. Stupid to try._ Harry was so done with that irritating man.

The next day at school the teacher made him retake the test during lunch. Harry purposefully failed it. As the teacher graded it he smirked at Harry, as if he knew that Harry was stupid and clearly cheated. It made Harry so mad. _Why did everyone hate him so much? He wasn't a bad person. He did his best. He tried to do what he was told. Why wouldn't anyone give him a chance?_ As the teacher handed back his test with a big fat F, Harry gasped. His teacher's wig was blue. _Oh no! What had he done? This was another night in the cupboard without dinner for sure._ Harry just wanted to run away. He couldn't though. There was no where to go. He hoped that no one would notice. Unfortunately, everyone did.

Harry was sent home from school for a week again. He was also transferred to the other third grade class. No one could prove that Harry was the cause of the blue hair fiasco, but no one really wanted to listen to Harry anyways. That night in the cupboard, Harry didn't dream. Escaping into dreams didn't help that much anymore. Harry resolved to become better. So good, that no one could find fault. There wouldn't be another roof episode. No more dyed hair fiascos. No more problems with Aunt Petunia trying to tame his unruly hair. It was going to work out. He was going to change. No more dreams. It was reality from here on out.

* * *

 **AN:** I changed the title of this story from _what's in a name_ to _the child who lived._ I never really like the original title I gave this story and I think the new one works a lot better.


	8. Eight

By the time he was eight, Harry had given up on expecting to make friends if he was nice to people. Harry hunting was the only thing that counted as an interaction with his peers. Being scrawny and able to hide didn't help much if your assailants knew where you lived and you were the local scapegoat. No one would help him. They would just watch silently, laugh or even worse - encourage the abuse of Harry.

In the spare moments distanced from cleaning or running away from Dudders and his gang, Harry would escape away into the world of books. With books, he could imagine the fantastical worlds. He didn't have to be afraid of the word magic. He could read about great adventures and daring heroes.

It had been almost a year since the last weird incident. Harry was glad nothing bizarre had happened around him. He didn't quite understand how he arrived on that roof, nor did he understand how the teacher's wig turned blue. It had taken a long time for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to stop glaring at him so harshly. They still glared, but at least it wasn't as constant now.

His family was odd. For some reason, they were respected by the community. Aunt Petunia did nothing but gossip, yet she somehow had all of the other wives in Little Whinging supporting her. Uncle Vernon was a man who liked to yell at the telly until he was a red as a tomato, yet somehow he had a decent position at Grunnings. The world was bizarre. Harry much preferred the wonders of fantasy worlds. At least the strange things that Harry did wouldn't be so abnormal there. If Harry lived in his books, it's the Dursleys who would be the odd ones! Harry could adventure and they wouldn't be able to yell at him at all. There wouldn't be all this " _boy_ do this, _boy_ do that!" nonsense.

Harry wasn't sure why _boy_ bothered him so much. It wasn't that it was a bad word. It just didn't make much sense. Harry wasn't a _boy_ , Harry was just Harry. Did others feel this way? Did Dudley? Of course, Harry used the _boys_ washroom and was a _boy_. It just didn't really make much sense. People were people. Why need to add in all these extra names? It seemed so pointless; it was just another thing for Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon to yell at him as if it were his fault for getting out of the cupboard each day instead of melting into the stairs.

* * *

 **AN:** I'm not sure how much I want to describe Harry's life. Should I stick to little aspects of his pre-Hogwarts life? Should I continue through all of the books themselves? Should I write Harry as an adult too? I have ideas for everything, I'm just not sure what people may want to read. Please let me know if there's anything in particular I should write about, or things I need to improve upon.


	9. Unexplainable

Strange things happened around Harry. It did no good to try and explain because no one would ever believe him. There was a no questions policy at the Dursley residence, and no one else made the effort to explain things to Harry either.

By the time he was nine, Harry was sure that he got more haircuts than any other person in his year. It really didn't make sense to him. No matter how much the barber would trim off, his hair would be unruly and wild as ever. He thought back to a year ago when Aunt Petunia had been so mad at his hair that she used a pair of kitchen shears to chop off his hair, leaving just a small fringe to cover his 'freakish scar.' Harry hadn't slept that night, too anxious about the bullying he would get in addition to taunts about his already shabby appearance. Somehow, the next morning, his hair was exactly as it had been before! He'd been given a week in the cupboard as punishment. It just wasn't fair at all. As per usual, no one listened to him, even though Harry had absolutely no idea how his hair could've done that.

Aunt Petunia hated his scar. Harry thought it was the one cool thing about himself. He was too thin, with ashy skin and misfitting clothes and glasses. His lightning bolt shaped scar was a unique thing about him that could be considered interesting rather than unfortunate. Living under the stairs in a dark cupboard was not kind to his overall appearance and his glasses were a mess thanks to Dudley's love of punching him in the nose. Harry was actually amazed that his nose wasn't crooked. While Harry wasn't all that interested in fashion, he was sure that the oversized look of Dudley's cast-offs did nothing to improve the way he was seen by peers and strangers.

Recently, Aunt Petunia had tried to have him wear a horrible brown jumper with orange puff balls. It was something that Dudley had refused to wear now that he was a 'big boy'. Harry thought Dudders was more of a pig in a wig, or perhaps a whale with a toupee? Somehow when Aunt Petunia tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it became, until it might as well of been a doll outfit or something for a hand puppet. Thankfully she had decided the horrid jumper must have shrunk in the wash. Miraculously, Harry hasn't been punished.

It was almost something to celebrate when he wasn't punished. It seemed like everything he did would cause trouble in some way or another. Harry was glad he could still retreat into books and small dark spaces. There, he could dream. He often dreamed about flying on a motorcycle or bright flashes of light and a person with red hair. Harry was a bit embarrassed that he still called the person with red hair his special fire person. For some reason, he felt safe with that color yet he felt tense around the green flashes in his dreams. He always awoke with a headache when he had the nightmares of green light.

* * *

 **AN** : A few more scenes of Harry and the Dursley's and then I think he'll be off to Hogwarts. How AU should I make this story? Any preferences?


	10. Zoo

On Dudley's eleventh birthday, Harry learned that even if good things happen, bad things will likely follow. Harry normally wouldn't have had the privilege to accompany the Dursleys on Dudleykins special day. However, Mrs. Figg had broken her leg and Aunt Petunia's friend Yvonne was on holiday. While Harry had hoped they would let him stay in the house alone (he was ten after all!) so he could catch a show on the telly or get to use Dudley's computer, the Dursleys quickly shot that idea down. So, here Harry was, at Chessington's World of Adventure, trying to stay out of the way of Piers and Dudley (and their chocolate ice cream covered fists) and sucking on a lemon ice pop. It was sweet and tart and the first sweet Harry had eaten in a very long time.

The animals were fantastic. They were beautiful and interesting to read about. Harry thought the family of Gorillas looked similar to Dudley and Mr. Dursley. At lunch, Harry got to finish off Dudley's first Knickerbocker Glory since Dudley demanded a second Knickerbocker Glory which was more ice cream than anything else. When they all ventured to the Reptile House it was warm most of the snakes seemed to be sleeping. Although there were many signs saying ''Please do NOT tap on the glass!'' Piers and Dudley got Mr. Dursley to rap his pudgy knuckles against the glass of a Boa Constrictor. The snake didn't budge. Bored, the bullies left to look at other reptiles. Harry stayed and stared at the snake. He felt sorry for the creature having to deal with stares all the time. Suddenly, the snake looked up and winked at him! Harry winked back and the two conversed for a while. The poor fellow had been in captivity his whole life and just wanted to get to Brazil. Unfortunately, Piers and Dudley noticed that the giant snake was now awake and Harry was talking to it. They rushed over, pushing Harry out of the way. Somehow, another freakish accident happened and the glass disappeared. As the constrictor slithered away, Harry knew he was in deep trouble. This was a cupboard without meals sort of incident.

Thanks to Piers remarking that ''Harry had been talking to the snake,'' Uncle Vernon sent Harry to the cupboard, sans meals for an undeterminable amount of time. In the darkness of the cupboard, Harry waited for the Dursleys to go to bed so he could finally sneak something to eat from the kitchen. He was just so tired of all this. For ten miserable years, all he had ever known was the Dursleys, being a freak, a waste of space. Harry had dreamed and hoped and wished that he could get out. He kept hoping that the fire-haired person or any of the other strange folk who occasionally waved to him or shook his hand in public would rescue him. But no one ever did. Harry was tired of having to clean and cook and being everyone's scapegoat. He did the best he could, reading books to escape, doing his homework first correctly and then incorrectly, hiding himself as much as possible. Yet his best never seemed to be enough. Harry wasn't sure if he should feel sorry for not being able to actually disappear. As everything seemed to be his fault, he knew he probably should. But, Harry didn't really feel guilty for being here. It wasn't his fault that things were the way they were. He had a right to be Harry, just as Dudley, Uncle Vernon, or Aunt Petunia could be themselves.


	11. Disappointment

**AN: I'm abandoning this fic because I felt like I was just rehashing canon with slightly more angst and some gender dysphoria. I don't think the gender of Harry really changes the character. If anything, different gender identities just alter the way others would treat Harry, and since we're still pre-Hogwarts the story seems lacking. Below you'll find what I wrote a few months ago but never posted because I didn't know how to make it interesting, as well as the general timeline of scenes I would've written if I'd continued.**

* * *

Harry had gotten a letter. A letter for Harry. It was so surprising, he just stood there for a moment, clutching the crisp envelope in his tiny hands.

"Boy what are you holding on to?" yelled Uncle Vernon.

"Er...Nothing?"

"Don't lie to me you little-"

"He has a letter Dad!" said Dudley gleefully.

The letter was snatched out of Harry's hands before he could open it.

"That's my letter! It even lists my cupboard!" he shouted, quite frustrated at losing something that was solely his.

Aunt Petunia gasped. "They know where we keep him. They must be watching."

Uncle Vernon looked at his wife in a bit of a stupor as she started twitching.

"We must move him to another room. They can do all sorts of freakish things" Aunt Petunia finally said.

"But that's either the spare or Dudley's second bedroom. We can't give up Marge's room to the freak. And Dudley needs a place for all his things" complained Uncle Vernon.

While the two were busy fretting over the letter, Harry was busy trying to get it back. The letter was stuck in Uncle Vernon's beefy hand. Maybe if he just slowly pried the letter out Harry could finally read what it said. Unfortunately, Dudley chose to be quite aware of the situation and interrupted his parents. "Mum, Dad, the freak is trying to get the letter." Angry at the nerve of Harry, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia sent him to Dudley's second bedroom to clean. They would've sent him to the cupboard, but the idea of freaks watching them made them act carefully.

As Harry cleaned the second bedroom he realized that Dudley was gross. Not that this was a surprise really, but Dudley was super wasteful. More so than Harry had ever considered. There were toys that had never been used and games that had been tossed aside after one use. It was a huge contrast to his own cramped cupboard which until today had housed not only himself, but three spiders and cleaning supplies.

Harry really wished he could have the letter, though. While a change in scenery was definitely appreciated, the knowledge that someone out there knew him and scared the Dursleys was even more welcome. Harry wondered what it could be about. The letter had felt heavy and thick and even had a wax seal. It had been addressed to 'Mr. H. Potter' in emerald ink. Seeing his name like that made Harry feel quite posh. How could he get the letter back? Later that night in the second bedroom, Harry dreamed of flying letters.

After waking up, once again, Harry had received a letter and once again, he wasn't allowed to have it. Harry was frustrated. Why wouldn't the Dursleys let him have the letter? He knew that they didn't like him but what was so harmful about the letter? He decided to sneak out the next morning and get the letter before anyone else was up. He did his chores dutifully the rest of the day and tried to be as unsuspicious as possible.

The next morning, Harry did not get his letter. Instead, he got a furious Uncle Vernon with a very red face. Apparently Uncle Vernon didn't take too kindly to having his face stepped on in the early morning. Uncle Vernon had slept in front of the door, blocking Harry from accessing the mail. Harry felt horrible. He was glad the person kept sending letters but also worried that they might stop since he hadn't responded yet. So far, Uncle Vernon had burned every single letter before Harry could even open them!

The next day, owls appeared. Lots and lots of owls. The owls had letters attached to them and wouldn't quit hooting. The Dursleys were less than pleased. Harry was first amused and then a little terrified. What was Uncle Vernon going to do now that the perfection of Number 4 Privet Drive had been compromised with freakish owls? It turned out he responded with nails, a hammer, and extreme isolation. Uncle Vernon locked all the windows and shut all the blinds. He shut the mail slot. He blocked the small space underneath all the doors.

As the normal mail route had been disturbed and there were no more open windows for owls to hoot through, Harry was sure that the person wouldn't be able to send any more letters. He was wrong. The confused milkman handed two dozen eggs along with two dozen letters tucked around the eggs to Aunt Petunia through the living room window. Aunt Petunia had been less than pleased.

After the egg incident, Harry decided to try and appease the Dursleys as much as possible. The next morning was a Sunday so Harry made a full English. They couldn't hate him when he had made them such a tasty fry up right? Uncle Vernon was pleased at least. "No post on Sundays boy!" he smirked. Harry nodded his head in agreement. He felt a bit disappointed. If the person had managed a chorus of post owls, couldn't they have also sent him some letters today? Harry just really wanted to know why this person was so interested in him. He was just Harry!

Suddenly, a loud Whoosh interrupted the meal. It sounded like it came from the fireplace. Everyone got up and went to the parlor. That was a big mistake. There was a whirlwind of letters in the parlor. Harry tried to snatch one but Dudley pushed him to the ground. As Harry looked up from his crooked glasses he saw Aunt Petunia trying to catch as many letters as she could while Uncle Vernon was getting out as many matches as he could find. "Enough of this! We're leaving tonight!" shouted Uncle Vernon.

"That night Harry and the Dursley's rode to the coast. It was dark and crowded. Dudley kept kicking Harry as Uncle Vernon held onto the steering wheel with clenched fists. Aunt Petunia was almost catatonic. Finally, after what seemed like the longest car ride ever, they arrived at a sketchy looking dock.

* * *

 **TIMELINE OF POTENTIAL SCENES I HAD PLANNED ON WRITING:**

Harry versus the "Boy-Who-Lived."

Wizards are weird.

Summary of the first year.

Harry feels trapped.

Harry wants Dobby to chill

Harry has a thrilling second year.

Harry versus Aunt Marge.

Third year is drama.

Sirius Black needs to chill.

Harry has a good summer and then Death Eaters happen

Triwizard Tournament everyone sucks.

Harry's summer is the worst possible thing.

Umbridge is terrifying.

Harry is a pile of angst.

Harry befriends Luna.

Harry has another bad summer.

Death is everywhere.

Slughorn tries to collect Harry.

Draco is suspicious.

Dumbledore dies.

Harry goes adventure mode.

Horcruxes are evil.

Battle of Hogwarts.

Harry as Auror.

Harry and Ginny name their kids.

The kids go to Hogwarts.

Harry calls his children by name. Never boy or girl. Sex shouldn't bias or influence parenting.

Harry is a middle-aged adult.

Harry reads muggle news and learns about trans idenitities.

Harry comes out to Ginny.

Everything is fine.


End file.
